


Never forget

by arfrid



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: AAAA, AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, F/M, Gen, Maxine "Max" Mayfield Needs a Hug, Mike Wheeler Needs a Hug, aaah, i guess, the answer? i have absolutely no idea, torture?, trigger warnings??, what the hell is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26446042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arfrid/pseuds/arfrid
Summary: Before, at least he had his red-haired friend.Now he was alone.He was alone and he didn’t want to be. They had moved her to a different place, different room, because she was a “bad influence.”He leaned on the door, like he always did. He liked hearing the noises and vibrations, even if it was yelling. The only noise he didn’t like was screams from his friend.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Mayfield & Mike Wheeler, Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Mike Wheeler & Nancy Wheeler, Will Byers & Dustin Henderson & Lucas Sinclair & Mike Wheeler, Will Byers & Eleven | Jane & Dustin Henderson & Maxine Mayfield & Lucas Sinclair & Mike Wheeler
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Never forget

**Author's Note:**

> me: the fuck is this

Before, at least he had his red-haired friend.

They didn’t even know their own names, so he just called her ‘Red’ and she called him ‘Black’ because of their hair colors, apart from a few of the days before she was taken, when she called him another name, something beginning with M, he thinks. She was hilarious, and made the funniest impressions of their captors despite the situation.

Now he was alone.

He was alone and he didn’t want to be.

Nobody wants to be alone, despite what they tell themselves.

Maybe they were trying to touch-starve him.

It was working, because he was craving a hug from his friend.

But they had moved her to a different place, different room, because she was a “bad influence.”

He had screamed and begged for this not to happen, but they had dragged her unconscious self out the room.

He looked down at his clothes; a simple dirty white shirt and black matted trousers with equally dirty socks. The only thing was that his shirt didn’t have a number before.

_16:9_

He didn’t know what those numbers meant, and he didn’t to.

There were no windows, no natural light. There was only a big blue room with a big black door and a small bright light. There was an uncomfortable bed in the far-right corner, but it was better than the floor.

He leaned on the door, like he always did. He liked hearing the noises and vibrations, even if it was yelling. The only noise he didn’t like was screams from his friend.

Clearly, they weren’t touch-starving her.

No-one had come in his room for weeks. Not while he was awake, anyways. They would bring him 3 trays while he slept, one for when he woke up, one for later when he got hungry again, and one for when he slept.

He had been trapped in here for god-knows how long. At least a month, at most a year.

Then again, maybe they had drugged him or something, and maybe he had been taken wherever this was when he was different, when he had a _name_ , that _wasn’t_ his hair color.

If he was, then he doesn’t remember it.

He looks around for the little tray, crawling over and pulling it towards himself.

He wasted his energy with walking, and crawling used minimal energy.

Always he had maintained hope that someone was going to come and save them, and the girl had rolled her eyes skeptically and told him it wasn’t ever going to happen, that she was sure that they had been here longer than they remembered.

At the time, he had been sure someone would come to rescue them.

Now, he had lost faith of that ever happening.

He slowly ate his food, savoring every bite as if someone was going to come in and snatch it. Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise him.

Nothing would.

.

.

.

The alarm rang, which surprised him.

He flinched at the sound of the high-pitched ring, and suddenly the room wasn’t blue, it was red, then it quickly faded to black, then back to red, then black, then red…

He got up, ready to fight if need be.

There was yelling – he didn’t like it. He heard running, urgent running, and there was the sound of shooting.

He didn’t know it was the sound of a gun, but he just did. He covered his ears, immediately disliking the noise.

The shots stopped abruptly and suddenly someone was running to his room.

He started panicking, looking around for places to hide.

His bed.

Quickly, he slid under his bed and held his breath.

A man ran in, and he was tempted to close his eyes when he heard a muffled whimper.

The man was _holding_ Red by her hair, and she had a black mask on her mouth that on obviously too tightly.

In his panic at seeing her, he didn’t notice the man running toward him until he had grabbed onto his hair and yanked him out; he cried out, but the man quickly put another too-tight mask on him.

He couldn’t talk, or breath, or anything.

He couldn’t breathe.

He _couldn’t_ _breathe_.

The man dragged them along, not caring to make sure that they were comfortable, and they tried their best to keep up, but the grip on their hair was tightening and he was sure the man was going to pull it out.

Black heard another man yell, and suddenly they stopped altogether. Then the man let go of him and the sound of a gun loading was loud in his mind.

In his blurry haze, he looked up to see a man with a beard and seemingly blue eyes aim a gun at the man carrying them. He tried to crawl over to red, but the man saw him and kicked him.

“HEY!” The new man said, and there was the sound of a gun shooting and suddenly the man had ducked and grabbed Red.

Panic flared inside him, and he wanted to hit the man, but he couldn’t move, he was still in shock from being touched in and of itself.

The man ran with Red, and she yelled muffled yells from behind her mask, and then disappeared round a corner.

The other man approached him, caressing his face slightly.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay- Woah, okay!”

Black hugged him. The man held the boy’s head and murmured softly.

Panic increased through him as he remembered Red.

“You- You have to- go after—” He stuttered. His voice was so hoarse from misuse, it barely came out as a croak. He hadn’t had a reason to use it.

“Hey, someone’s getting her right now, I—”

There was another sound of a shot, and the man sighed and took the boy’s mask off. He breathed heavily, taking blissful oxygen into his lungs.

“How ‘bout we get you outside, huh kid?” he said caringly. He hadn’t heard anyone speak like that for a long time. In fact, he hadn’t even heard _anyone_ speak for a long time. He wordlessly nods, and the man gets up, but Black doesn’t want to let go, it might be the only time – the _last_ time – someone touches him.

“I’m not letting go, okay? You’re just a bit heavy, but I can hold your hand, okay?” The nice man says. Black nods and lets go, holding his hand like it was his lifeline.

They walk through the building, and the nice man has his gun out all the time. Every second they’re in there, Black worried about Red and what this’ll mean, but all that vanishes the moment they’re outside.

It’s bright – so bright that his eyes take multiple seconds to get used to it – there’s vans everywhere, but instead of men, there’s older kids – a brown haired, blue eyed girl; a brown-haired, brown-eyed boy, walking out and shrugging hopelessly at them.

The girl gasps the moment she sees him, and she runs towards him.

“Mike, oh my god, _Mike_!” She says, hugging him tightly. He flinches at the touch, then relaxes, and assumed that he was supposed to know this girl and that he was Mike.

“H-Hey…” He said. The girl’s eyes widened as she broke the hug, still holding his hands. “What’s your n-name again?”

If someone could look like their heart shattered in a million pieces, the girl did.

She started sobbing, and the brown-haired boy walked over to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off and hugged him again.

“I-It’s okay…” She started shakily. “We can start again. Your friends, they’re gonna love you again.”

It sounded like she was reassuring herself as well as him, but he only registered one thing: _your friends_.

“Friends? I… have?” he asks. She breaks the hug again and nods, ruffling his hair. He giggles. She smiles at him. The man orders them to get in the back of the van.

He’s hesitant about getting back in an enclosed space, but the nice girl is holding his hand and he just wants to be with her at the moment.

In the van, while it’s moving, an older, yet somehow smaller, brown-haired woman converses with the nice man.

“I’m Nancy.” She says shakily, extending a hand. He extends one too, unsure of what to do. The girl – Nancy – grabs his hand and shakes it up and down. He smiles at the contact. Any contact in general is amazing for him.

“I’m… M-Mike?” He asks her. Suddenly he remembers what Red called him. “Mike. I’m Mike.”

Nancy nods and smiles, the moves over to sit next to him and hugging him.

As they drove onwards wordlessly, he felt the anxiety starting to clear up, and started feeling happier the farther they went from that place. Nancy noticed his perkiness and starting chatting cheerfully, like him and Red did when they were together.

Eventually the van stopped, and three kids hugged him; one curly haired one with a hat and a funny smile, one with dark skin, and one with bowl-shaped hair.

They broke the embrace, excitedly chatting over one another. Nancy cut them off and says, “He doesn’t remember.”

All their faces fell immediately, but then the curly haired one smiled and extended his hand.

“I’m Dustin.” He introduced himself. The dark-skinned boy and bowl-haired boy followed suite. “Pleasure to re-meet you.”

The dark-skinned boy was called Lucas, and the bowl-hair boy was called Will. He had no recollection of them, but he knew he liked them as they started talking together. Dustin was starting to explain something but Lucas kept interrupting him, and Will just smiled and laughed.

“Wait, where’s Red?” He asked, suddenly nervous. All eyes turned to him. Nancy was the first to say something.

“Who’s Red?” She asked.

“Red-hair. Blue eyes.” He explained vaguely. She pointed at the van that was nearing them and Red walked out warily, but the moment they caught sight of each other, they hugged each other and didn’t let go.

“Red!”

“Black!”

“RED!”

“BLACK!”

They yelled at each other, screaming each other’s name. She was clearly craving his embrace too.

Life was good.


End file.
